


You Got Me (Lookin' for the Rest of Me)

by saekokato



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, M/M, Schmoop, soul bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekokato/pseuds/saekokato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where humans and drakes exist among a plethora of hybrid species, none stand out more than dragons.  Jensen had been dreaming about dragons forever, but never really believed he’d ever even meet one in his lifetime.  Which considering his choice of career, stood the chance of being shorter than expected.  </p><p>Of course, expecting the unexpected was for more than just the Spanish Inquisition.  Or the Losers' rotten, no good, bad luck.  Every single one of Jensen’s expectations were turned upside down when a botched mission landed the Losers with a pair of dragons in their midst, crazy megalomaniacs on their tails, and the threat of treason hanging over their heads.  </p><p>Then again that just sounded like a Wednesday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Got Me (Lookin' for the Rest of Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Dragon Big Bang over on LJ. Beta by the ever awesome Roseclaw, who always puts up with me giving her stuff that she doesn’t care about/doesn’t know enough about. Such a trooper! Also, if my writing seems a little stilted or rusty, that would be because it is. I apologize up front. And, as always, any remain mistakes are mine.
> 
> [edit] Also thank you to JiM for pointing out a pretty boneheaded mistake on my part. Thanks, JiM!

|-|

You Got Me (Lookin’ For the Rest of Me)

|-|

In the mid-1700s, a group of human wizards hell-bent on taking over the world captured and experimented on a group of young drakes. Drakes, the massive intelligent cousins of reptiles the world over, were known for their fierce fighting abilities and rich cultural history. Unlike the vast majority of humans, drakes had deep connections with to magic. Unfortunately, that was primarily a passive connection, so most drakes couldn’t actively use it. But even passively, drakes were powerful, some being naturally good at healing or warding, just to name a couple of talents. The only talent shared collectively by the whole race was their abilities to Shift, most into a human form.

But more importantly, select members of their race could bond with humans, becoming a rare but powerful pair of warriors known as Drake-Partners. 

Drake-Partners were the very elite of elite warriors. A bonding happened only once or twice a generation and were the things of legends. Drake-Partners did everything from going into battle to stopping the occasional apocalypse to organizing treaties that shook the world. They had power that egomaniacs and wannabe world rulers dreamed of. 

Unfortunately, the bondings were, one, rare, and, two, uncontrollable. No one knew who a potential Drake-Partner was until they became one-half of the bond. Which is what that mid-18th century group of wizards sought to change. 

They created an entirely new race of beings, who would later rename themselves ‘dragons’ after the creatures from ancient legend who so resembled the drakes. These dragons had all of the characteristics from both of their parental groups – humans and drakes – and could bond much, much more easily. They also acquired a new talent, one unexpected, but wholly pivotal for their initial escape and subsequent survival as a race: they were Shifters.

|-|

They skidded around the corner, sliding in something that Jensen wasn’t going to try to identify - this was an even more disgusting than usual enemy hideaway - and brushing against the wall before sprinting down the dimly lit hallway. According to the blueprints Jensen had managed to dig up, they just had to make it through the far doorway and across a really big room to yet another doorway, and they should be scot-free. Aside from the crazed running for their lives and the complete lack of housekeeping, this was actually turning out to be a positive mission for the Losers.

Pooch glanced over his shoulder at Jensen, and as if he could hear what Jensen was thinking, narrowed his eyes. Jensen knew that Pooch (or Clay or Roque) couldn’t _actually_ read his mind, but they’d all gotten really good at knowing when he was tempting Fate. Or ‘up to no good’ as Clay preferred to grumble after yet another successful Jensen-patented prank. 

Jensen just grinned at Pooch until the other man just rolled his eyes and got back to concentrating on where they were running. Which was only too the good, as they had to put on a burst of speed when the baddies they were trying to outrun came around the corner behind them and opened fire again. 

“Never trusting Domnar’s intel again, man,” Jensen said as he ducked away from the stone chips ricocheting off of the walls. “Lazy, my finely shaped white ass. These assholes are like Energizer bunnies.” 

Pooch snorted, but with the echoes, Jensen wasn’t sure if he’s agreeing or disagreeing with him. Not that it really mattered because they’re sliding to a halt in front of far door, Jensen sending back an answering hail of bullets while Pooch worked his mechanical magic with the locks, and then they were through it. 

Its the heaviness of the air that hits them first, like they’ve gone from subterranean desert at night to mid-summer at the dead center of the Amazon. Its almost like a physical blow, that’s how hot and heavy the air is. It was as he was slamming the door shut behind him, grabbing a loose piece of rebar to wedge it closed, that Jensen noticed the way every hair on his body was standing on end. 

“Motherfucker,” Pooch breathed out. He’s stock still and staring hard into the darkness. 

Okay, _dimness_. There wasn’t enough Lasik in the world to compensate for how quickly Pooch’s eyes could adjust, anytime, anywhere. 

But that was neither here nor there because now Jensen could see the pair of eyes staring out of the dark. Jewel tone eyes, with red swirls and an almost sickly yellow-green cloudiness circling the pupils and, “Holy shit. Those _fuckers_ are smuggling _drakes_.”

His voice rang out in the room, not quite echoing back to him. He wasn’t sure if that was because of the stone walls or the scaly bodies because that was definitely another pair of eyes appearing in the dark.

“Son of a bitch.” 

There was a crackle of static as the jury rigged comms Jensen had been forced to finagle came back to life. “Jensen, Pooch! Report!” Clay snapped.

Jensen swallowed thickly. He wondered if he’d have time to relay a few messages for Sarah and Emma before he ended up a drake snack, or if he should just save his breath for screaming. 

“Dragons, Clay. They have _dragons_ ,” Pooch answered. Because, apparently, there were things on Earth that could, temporarily, scare Jensen silent. 

Clay’s only response was a long string of swearing. Jensen was once again impressed by his CO’s breadth of knowledge and creative use of the fouler end of many a language.

“Any ideas, bossman?” Jensen asked before he thought better of it. Because there really wasn’t much of a chance that either he or Pooch are going to make it back to base (or what passed for one this week) without a lost limb or two. Ah, the luxurious life of a Loser. 

That’s about when his eyes finally, _finally_ , adjusted to the light, and they narrowed as he leaned forward for a closer look. 

“Shit, those _are_ dragons!”

|-|

Staring down a dragon was about as nerve wracking as Jensen would have thought it was if he had actually bothered to think about it. He never had. Like most kids, his thoughts ran more to how many awesome adventures he would totally have, once he was a Dragon Partner. Logic and reality had had about as much to do with it as online dating profile pictures have to do with their real life counterparts. Now though. Now it was utterly nerve wracking

"Nice dragon," Jensen said, his hands held out in front of him. Maybe the dragon understood the difference between humans that held it/him/her captive and ones that had accidentally stumbled upon it/him/her. "We are crunchy, but I'm pretty sure we don't taste good with ketchup."

The dragon stared at him for a couple of seconds before shaking its/his/her head a little and looking at Pooch. Who just shrugged. "Nope, I have no explanation for him. Pretty sure one doesn't exist."

"Aw, Pooch, why you gotta be like that?"

"Really, just ignore him. He never shuts up, but its just a lot of white noise after a while."

The dragon snorted, a plume of smoke rising from his nostrils. He - because Jensen was going with that until he was told otherwise - looked more amused than he did hungry, which was all to the good in Jensen's opinion. It was bad enough that the entire mission had just gone totally fubar, being eaten would have been the toilet paper icing on the shit flavored cake. 

"So..."

"Oh god, he has an idea. We're all going to die," Pooch groaned. 

"Don't listen to him, he's a Negative Nancy," Jensen said. "Look, the guys who have you guys want us dead. Want to really fuck their plans up and come with us?"

The dragon tilted his head for a second, then turned to look at his fellow captive. That one was a little smaller, with different markings that Jensen was pretty sure didn't have anything to do with gender, but he still thought it was a she. That one scowled - and man was Jensen glad she wasn't scowling at him - but nodded.

"Great! " Jensen said. "Can you guys shift?"

The smaller dragon held up a leg and shook the chain at him. Wow. Yeah, dealing with some grade a assholes here, if they were using anti-shift tech.

"Right," Jensen said. "If we get those off, can you?" 

The first dragon nodded. He held out his leg to Jensen. His claw was about three times the size of Roque's favorite knife. Jensen really hoped he was reading the situation right because being torn to shreds was about at the top of the list of ways he didn’t want to die of. Right after being exploded and Clay trying to make Thanksgiving Dinner. 

Their captors were using some of the latest anti-shift tech around – unsurprising, considering that selling dragons on the black market carried some pretty hefty punishments, not to mention the whole _dragon_ thing – but it wasn’t anything that Jensen hadn’t already seen something similar of. Oh, the life of a Loser; Jensen sure couldn’t say that he didn’t live in interesting times. And even if he hadn’t, it wasn’t like they could have really used anything too techy. Dragons were a race created in part by magic. Magic and tech didn’t really get along on the best days. 

The dragon’s scales were a lot softer than Jensen would have imagined and warmer, too. He really wanted to take a minute just to _feel_ them – because when was he going to get another chance at this – but he could hear pounding and yelling from the other side of the door he and Pooch had just come through. It was well past time for them to get gone. 

“Any more ideas, Jensen?” Pooch asked from where he was examining the cuff on the smaller dragon. He had a knife in his hand, one with a small enough blade to slide into the lock, but didn’t look all that thrilled with using it without an okay. 

They’d seen the remains of someone who’d tried that a few years back. Smelly piles of goo weren’t really either of their personal styles. 

But Jensen didn’t think they’d have to worry about that here. “We’re too far remote for them to be powering this stuff like they’re meant to be. Not to mention how much of a red flag that much power usage would be in this fucking shithole. Go ahead and rip it open.” Jensen was already taking his advice. 

It didn’t take them longer than two minutes to break through all of the cuffs, and as soon as they’d finished the last of them, Jensen could feel the shift of magic in the air. Their comms just shorted out completely, little sparks flying that had both of them cursing and snatching them from their ears. By the time they’d straightened back up, the dragons had shifted. 

“Gracias,” the short compact man in front of Jensen said. Jensen had to blink at him for a second because _damn_. He was hot. And fully clothed, complete with the sexiest cowboy hat Jensen had ever laid eyes on. 

“No problem,” Pooch said. He reached down to remove his extra piece from his leg and held it out to the smoking woman standing in front of him. Jensen couldn’t help but wonder if it was genetically impossible for dragons not to be gorgeous, or if that was just why this particular pair had been captured. Because it wasn’t like he’d actually spent a lot of time around the other race because fuck if humans didn’t multiple like bunnies. “I’m only giving this to you if you can assure me that you know how to use it. I have no interest in being shot by anyone today, but if I have to be, I’d really prefer it if it was by someone who knew which way the bullets came out of it.”

The woman snorted, sounding surprisingly like her other form, given that she was about six times smaller now. “Yes, I know how to handle a pistol. And today is not over with yet.” 

Pooch sighed but shrugged as he handed the weapon over. “Do we at least get points for getting you out?”

“We’ll see,” she said. She ran her hands over the gun, checking the clip, loading the chamber, and clicking the safety off so efficiently that Jensen knew it wasn’t even remotely the first time she had used a piece. Awesome. 

“Aisha,” the cowboy said quietly. 

She snorted again. “I am playing nicely, Cougar.” 

Cougar hmmm’d at her but didn’t say anything else. 

“Okay, we’ll do the full intros later, but I’m Jensen, that’s Pooch, and we really all need to not be here anymore,” Jensen broke in. He offered his own spare up to Cougar, who took it with a nod, and then he jerked his thumb at the door that they needed to be leaving out of. “The rest of our team should be outside, and we have about…” He glanced down at his watch and winced. “Oh, about a minute thirty before this entire place blows. So, yeah, running now.”

|-|

Clay didn’t say anything when they rounded the corner about a block from the now exploding base, complete with two extra bodies. Roque mostly just rolled his eyes, but Jensen was completely used to that. Of course, the usual terror associated with Roque being disgruntled was probably tempered by how hot their new friends were.

Like really, really fucking _hot_. 

Seeing as how the plan was supposed to include them getting in and out with only the explosion being seen, disappearing with two dragons and leaving at least three guards alive – they’d run out of both bullets and time – meant they couldn’t just head back to the base. They needed to head underground for a bit, figure out a plan, and then clean up any loose ends. 

It was days like this that Jensen really hated that he’d ended up in covert ops. The recruiters never said anything about it being anything like this. Lots of explosions and heroics, yes. Being on the run, no.

“There’s a bolt hole in the next town,” Clay said once they were clear of the gathering gawkers and emergency personal. “We can regroup there.” 

“Let me guess, the company?” Jensen asked. The company had no style and even less explosions. Fucking recruiters. 

“Assholes who pick up hitchhikers get no say,” Roque said. He pulled out his fifth favorite knife and started to clean his nails, seemingly oblivious to Clay’s jerky driving style, signaling the end of the conversation. 

Jensen opened his mouth to say…something, he always had something to say, but Pooch just shook his head as he pulled stuff out of the med kit, passing them back to Cougar. Jensen refrained from pouting. It took a lot of energy, but he did it. 

Aisha, who was ignoring how Cougar was dabbing antiseptic onto the scrapes on her arms, was fixated on Clay and Roque at the front of the truck. Or on Roque’s knife. Jensen figured it was probably a little of both. Roque had really good – insane, but good – taste in knives. He was pretty sure she wasn’t going to start anything right now. 

When he turned his attention to Cougar, he found Cougar smirking at him. He looked both knowing and amused, which probably meant Jensen needed to work on his not-pouting again. 

At least someone found him amusing.

|-|

It took longer than Clay clearly wanted for it to – the man was continuously like a bear with a thorn in his paw, at least when he wasn’t a weird and twisted Army version of a cuddly teddy bear – but they’re all arranged around the living room-type area of the bolt hole. And for a particularly shitty bolt hole, at least this one came with clean enough and comfortable furnishings alongside of the roaches.

“I’m Colonel Franklin Clay, this is my team, and I’m at a loss as to how you two ended up my problem,” Clay finally said. He sat in the arm chair near the door to the kitchen, Roque behind him and leaning against the doorjamb. He has Favorite Knife Number Three – Intimidation – held idly in one hand. 

Sometimes Roque was so very adorable. 

“That would be Domnar’s fault,” Pooch said. He was lying on the couch across from Clay and Roque, with a pillow covering his eyes. Jensen was on the floor leaning against the couch by Pooch’s feet, years basically living together making him all but immune to the predictable smell. “All Domnar.”

Jensen nodded. “All Domnar, all the fucking time. The only thing he got right was the layout, and I practically spoon fed that to him. Place was empty enough when we first went in.” It had been, too. It hadn’t even felt weird at the time, either. In retrospect, Jensen should have been expecting that. Obviously things weren’t going to go the way they’d expected – plans of mice and men and all that jazz – but _damn_. Smuggling dragons? “And then it wasn’t. I got the intel, because I am awesome, amazing, awe-inspiring, etc, etc, etc, and then we booked it. We stumbled onto these two.” He paused to gesture at Aisha and Cougar, who were sitting on the other couch – Aisha comfortably lounging at one end and Cougar perched on the arm at the other – before continuing. 

“Dragons, Clay. They are smuggling _dragons_.” Jensen shuddered, only partially theatrical. He’s seen a lot of shit in his nearly thirty years, but the people smuggling part always made his stomach turn. Especially the dragons because, well, _dragons_. 

He had always been a little fascinated. He could admit that. 

Clay raised an eyebrow at the vehemence in Jensen’s voice, but he wasn’t actually surprised. Again, years on the same team. He knew things about his teammates he could never scrub away, as much as he wished he could, and it was the same for them. Also, Jensen knew he wasn’t subtle about much of anything. “What have I told you about strays, Jensen?”

Pooch chuckled. “Just wait, man. If only all strays were as handy in an armed skirmish.” 

“I am no stray,” Cougar said. He had his hat pulled down low, almost covering his eyes. It made him look even more dangerous than Jensen suspected he was. No one who handled a gun or fought in close quarters like he, they, had wasn’t dangerous. “I am Carlos Alvarez, fifth son of the Alvarez Dragon Clan.”

“I’m Aisha al-Fadhil,” Aisha said. “First daughter of the Fadhil Dragon Clan.”

Jensen blinked. “Holy shit. How did you two end up caught by smugglers? Seriously. Wow.”

“Jensen,” Roque growled, which was as close as he’d come to asking Jensen to explain what he was talking about. Jensen knew how to translate Roque. It had come in handy a few times. 

“These two are the direct or mostly direct heirs to the top dragon warrior clans. Dude, royalty!” Jensen said. He knew he was grinning like a maniac, but he didn’t care. He and Pooch had just rescued royalty. “Oh yeah, who is a badass?” 

He threw up victory arms, but he had to drop them just as fast to keep his laptop from crashing onto the floor. He had a program running to crack the crazy secure encryption lock keeping him from all of the sweet, sweet information they’ll probably need for destroying these assholes, but that’s so close to cracking he can practically taste it. Damn if he wasn’t good at his job. 

Aisha raised an eyebrow at him. “You know of the Clans?” 

Pooch snorted. “Sister, Jensen is a font of useless information. On occasion he does come to some use.” 

“I can hear the jealously, Pooch.” Jensen reached back and poked Pooch in the leg. Pooch kicked him in the head. 

“Idiot,” Cougar said. There are crinkles by his eyes, though, so Jensen knows he thinks that they’re amusing. Score!

“Dragon royalty or not, you’ve planted yourselves in the middle of my op, so now I have to deal with you,” Clay said. He completely ignored Jensen’s and Pooch’s antics, eyeing Aisha speculatively. From the way Roque was tensing up, Jensen knew he’d noticed, too. 

Jensen really hoped Aisha wasn’t the type of girl to go for explosives first. Cleaning up pieces of his CO after yet another relationship fell apart was not something Jensen wanted to deal with. Better for her to go with knives or guns. That way only Roque had to deal with it. 

Also, Jensen really wished the two of them would find their damn way out of the fucking paper bag already. Seriously, DADT being history was the only silver lining in that entire mess. 

“We are warriors, Colonel,” Aisha said. She was returning Clay’s stares with her own, looking for all the world like she didn’t notice Roque’s reactions to them. Yep, things were going to explode. Jensen could only hope that it would happen when he wasn’t around for it. Not something he wanted to be a witness to. “We know our ways around your ‘ops’.” 

“If I allow your involvement,” Clay said, far, far too calmly for Jensen’s comfort. He’d warn Clay, but that would just make things worse. 

Aisha smiled at him, just like she had at Pooch and Jensen when she was still a dragon. It wasn’t any nicer with human teeth. “These men have committed _satter_ against the Clans. It is your involvement that is in question.” 

_Satter_ wasn’t something Jensen had come across very often in his dragon research. Mostly because it simply hadn’t happen all that often. The first was against the very council of wizards that had made the race. It had been named after the dragon that had sacrificed herself to finish off the last of the wizards, her life-force sacrifice overpowering the spell the desperate wizards had cast to gain complete control of the dragons. 

Now, _satter_ literally meant, “to commit an unforgivable action.” Because most people, who while completely crazypants, weren’t stupid enough to try to control a race that had no problem tearing their enemies to shreds, then turning said shreds into kabobs and roasting them over a fire – apparently that was some kind of mating ritual – the type of “unforgivable action” a _satter_ necessitates didn’t often come into play. But when it did, the entire might of a Clan or Clans was brought out to destroy those stupid enough to come against them. 

Jensen wasn’t fully up on the dragon gossip like he had been in college, but he did remember hearing something about an attack against one of the smaller Clans. There had only been a handful of survivors, too, mostly women and children. 

“Shit, that was the Fadhil clan, wasn’t it?” Jensen asked, his mouth catching on faster than his brain. It was a problem, but one that he was used to. “Fuck, Aisha, I’m sorry. That sucks so bad.” 

“The fuck are you talking about, Jensen?” Roque demanded. Jensen decided it would probably be best to ignore him.

Aisha regarded Jensen quietly for a minute. Jensen did his best to sit still and quiet while she did – he really didn’t want to be eaten – and since he’d been army for the last almost decade of his life, that was something that he could do. It was unnerving because it honestly felt like he could _feel_ her eyes on him. He tried really hard not to think about that article he’d read about the close relationship dragons had with magic, especially compared to most humans and drakes. 

It took about five minutes for Aisha to come to whatever conclusion she needed before she nodded at him. He guessed that was about as much as she was going to say about all of it, which, well. Jensen didn’t really blame her. If he’d lost Emma and Sarah, he’d probably invoke a _satter_ himself, then never look back. To lose and entire Clan? 

Jensen shuddered, telling himself he wasn’t going to think about it any longer. 

“That’s a pretty serious accusation,” Clay said. Jensen remembered telling him, in great detail, all about it during a stakeout when he’d first heard. Clay had even made sympathetic noises. Totally a teddy bear.

“It is,” Aisha agreed. She obviously wasn’t going to argue about this. Jensen wasn’t surprised, not really. Except for the part where she might just be as stubborn as Clay, which Jensen didn’t think would ever happen. Not even Roque was that stubborn. 

Clay and Aisha starred at each other for a minute. Then Clay nodded and stood up. “Jensen, find the information we need, then we go after those bastards. I’m missing a trip to Cancun for this shit.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Jensen said, turning back to his laptop. His little baby program had finally broken through the encryption, and he had so much dirt to sift through. He loved sifting through other people’s dirty little secrets. “Give me a few hours, max, and I’ll have the information we need.” 

Clay said something, but Jensen had already tuned him out. He had work to do. Besides Clay and the others were used to Jensen not noticing _anything_ once he was in hacker mode. 

But even through his hacker fog, Jensen could still feel Cougar watching him. If Jensen had been paying attention, he probably would have wondered why the other man watching him wasn’t making the hairs on the back of his neck rise like before.

|-|

It actually took Jensen more than ten hours to go through all of the information. Who-ever they were up against this time was really fucking paranoid and had the money to hire some really fucking good techs, because just about everything inside of that first encryption was hidden inside _other_ encryptions, sometimes more than one, and a few things were even in some bizarre codes. Jensen had printed those off and given them to Pooch, because the other man was oddly good with the patterns in codes, and it wasn’t like Jensen didn’t have enough shit to go through.

But even after Jensen had gone through everything, Clay just made him give over access to the information to him, Roque, and Aisha, and then sent Jensen to sack out. Not that Jensen really minded that last bit. He had been wake for somewhere around forty-six hours at that point, but he really didn’t want to wait to kick someone’s ass. Some of that shit would have scarred _Manson_ for life. 

Even with those new horrifying thoughts in his head, as soon as Jensen collapsed on his bed after a quick shower, he was out. Thankfully, he was too tired to really dream. He woke up thirteen hours after falling asleep to the memory of brief glimpses into things he didn’t really understand. Not exactly unusual really. He did feel more refreshed than he usually did after one of those benders, but he wasn’t going to complain. Who knew when he’d get the chance to crash like that again? 

The furnishing really were top-notch for a roach-infested shithole. (Okay, Jensen hadn’t actually seen a roach yet, but he had a nose for these things, okay? Years of empirical data at use here.) The beds were especially comfortable. Jensen smiled at the ceiling as he stretched, his arms over his head and brushing the wall. The movement pulled the sheets that had been draped loosely around his hips down, leaving only his left leg covered and the rest of him out in the fresh air. 

He probably should have put boxers on after his shower. 

“Sleep well?” a quiet voice asked. 

Jensen blinked but didn’t make any sudden movements. He didn’t exactly recognize the voice, which meant it wasn’t one of the others. That was really weird. Jensen couldn’t sleep if there was someone around him that he didn’t trust – like one of his teammates or his sister or niece – or if he wasn’t drugged out of his mind. Both of these things had been proven, over and over again, over the years. Insomnia was something a hacker was supposed to have, anyway. 

He could only hear himself and this mysterious other guy breathing in the room, so that ruled out the first option. And he could think clearly, so he hadn’t been drugged. He was mostly just really confused. 

“Not opening your eyes does not mean I cannot see you,” the guy said. He was laughing at Jensen. “And I know you are awake.”

Jensen opened his eyes, not because he had been called out but so he could glare at Cougar. “That isn’t funny, Cougar. You don’t know what I’m capable of.” 

Cougar smiled at him. He sat in the open window, his back braced against one side of the jamb, and a booted foot resting against the other. His hat was tipped back enough that Jensen, once he reached over to the nightstand for his glasses, could see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He was totally laughing at Jensen. “I know enough. Do not think I underestimate you, or that I think that you underestimate me. We have seen each other at work.” 

Jensen blinked again. This was definitely one of the more surreal ways of waking up, but he wasn’t being shot at and there wasn’t anything on fire or exploding, so he wasn’t too worried. There were definitely worse things in the world than waking up with a hot guy watching over him. 

“True,” Jensen agreed. He sat up slowly – migraines could be sneaky bastards, popping up after too much eye-straining computer work just when he thought he’d gotten off scot-free – and pulled the sheets back over his lap. No need to keep flashing the guy when they’d just met. Jensen knew the opportunity would rear its ugly head at the worst possible time at a later date. Besides, he could be a gentleman when he needed to be – Cougar was technically royalty, after all. 

Because Cougar was watching Jensen like he was a particularly fine cut of meat in the butcher’s shop, and Cougar was in the mood for something a little bloody. That’s when Jensen, for the first time in _years_ , blushed. Jensen hadn’t thought he could blush anymore. He’d been almost positive he’d had that trained out of him, what the hell? 

And then Jensen felt the eye thing again, a full body work over. He blinked again, head jerking up to catch Cougar in the act.

“See something you like?” Jensen’s mouth asked. Because there went his mouth speaking without his brain’s input again. Jensen really hated himself sometimes. 

Cougar chuckled. “Yes. But we have work first.” He climbed out of the window and stalked over to the bed, eyes on Jensen the whole time. He ran a hand along Jensen’s arm, and then up across his chest before sliding up his throat and around to the back of his neck. He tugged Jensen up a little, Jensen was too shocked – and turned on – to protest. Then Cougar kissed Jensen, lips hot and rough against Jensen’s own. There was a quick swipe of tongue along Jensen’s bottom lip before Cougar squeezed the back of his neck and pulled away. 

“Later, amor,” he said quietly, a smile crinkly at the corners of his eyes again, and then he was gone. Out the door before Jensen had the chance to react. 

“What the actual fuck?”

|-|

“About time your lazy ass got out of bed,” Roque said when Jensen finally made it downstairs. Getting dressed had taken longer than usual because Jensen had had a hard time finding where his mind had gone after Cougar had decided to get all up close and personal.

“You need to stop being so jealous, dear Roque,” Jensen said on automatic. His brain was foggy with the need for a direct drip of caffeine – he would never understand how he could wake up completely clear headed, but still end up in a fog without coffee – and from the adrenaline crash. “I cannot help that I am such a natural beauty that beauty sleep is necessary.”

“Now is not the time, children,” Pooch scolded. He was sitting at the kitchen table with Cougar, going over the encoded sheets Jensen had given Pooch. Cougar had a pen in his hand, making small notations as Pooch looked on. Occasionally Pooch would point something out to Cougar, who would pause and then nod, murmuring softly before jotting something else down. 

Jensen felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of jealously rear up, which was crazy. Pooch was so devoted to Jolene that he barely even glanced at other women. Besides, it wasn’t like one kiss, a wandering hand, and stalkerishly watching him sleep was any kind of declaration or commitment. 

“Cougar has been giving Pooch a run for his money working on those codes,” Clay said, appearing at Jensen’s side with a mug of coffee. When Jensen just eyed it warily, Clay rolled his eyes. “Aisha made the coffee. Roque drank the entire first pot himself.”

“So that’s what has him in such a cheerful mood,” Jensen said. He took the mug, ignoring the glare that Roque leveled in his direction and the assessing one Clay was giving him. The coffee smelled _amazing_. Jensen didn’t know where Aisha had picked it up because there was no way this coffee had been sitting on the shelf in this rattrap. Hell, normally they’d be lucky if the last set of residents had left behind the remnants of the instant crap. “So what’s the word on the official front? Any idea how much shit we’ll be shoveling when we get back?”

Jensen glanced up from his mug in time to see the flicker flash in Clay’s eyes. Clay had shifter blood way back in his family line, but the only physical sign he carried was the way his eyes would shift in times of great stress. Clay was amazingly good at keeping himself under control when he chose to, which was why he was in charge of this shit show. Jensen had seen Clay lose control only a few times, and that was only when the chances of them dying were better than the Yankees next shot at the World Series. 

Jensen still hadn’t figured out what kind of shifter Clay’s great-great-great-whatever ancestor had been. He’d narrowed it down to either some kind of cat or a coyote, which always made him think of Willie E. And that comparison to Clay was just too fucking funny not to hold onto.

“Domnar again?” he guessed. The coffee he had already drank sat heavy in his stomach. He closed his eyes, trying desperately not to think of Sarah or Emma. Instead, he thought of the many ways he could, and would, slowly kill Domnar. Fucking weasely rat bastard.

“The brass is mistakenly under the belief that we’ve gone rogue with a pair of Clan royalty under our lock and key,” Pooch confirmed. 

“I’m going to kill that little fucker the next time we run into him,” Roque added. 

Jensen could feel them all looking at him – and since when was he the weakest fucking link? – but when he opened his eyes, he only caught Cougar in the act. Because Cougar was the only one not trying to hide it. He was just watching Jensen, his gaze quiet and assessing and, oddly, reassuring. Jensen wasn’t sure if he should be worried or calmed by the look. 

“Are we on the lam?” Jensen asked. He said it half-jokingly because that’s what he did. Clay was serious, Roque was scary, Pooch was long-suffering, and Jensen cracked jokes. They could be tied to the ceiling, bleeding out, with no chance of getting out, and Jensen would still crack jokes (true story). Normal was relative, and this was the Losers’. 

“We’ve decided to alter our standing orders for the time being,” Clay said. Which meant, ‘yes, Jensen, we’re currently on the lam from the fucking army. Who didn’t acknowledge teams like theirs until someone needed to be blamed.’ Awesome.

Jensen was so glad he decided to get out of bed. “Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, sir?”

Clay cracked a wide smile. Jensen greatly preferred it when he didn’t do shit like that – it was creepy and the possibility of Jensen being shot was epically higher than it should be. “Exactly, Captain.” 

Jensen looked at the smile that was still on Clay’s face, the grim look on Roque’s, and decided he needed at least another pot of coffee before he could even start to handle this. And possibly pancakes.

|-|

By the time Aisha came back from wherever it was that she had been – Jensen would ask, but he’s decided to err on the side of caution – Jensen had had a full pot of coffee, some soggy generic cornflakes, and three more hours with the encrypted files. Between his genius, and Cougar’s and Pooch’s help, they had all of the information that they’d gone in for – mission accomplished! – and enough extra to start putting some serious thought behind going after the bastards that Domnar had sold them out to.

Not that they weren’t going to go after the bastards, anyway. The team had bonded with Aisha and Cougar while Jensen had been working/sacked out, so if it would have been like abandoning family if they hadn’t gone after them. 

(Despite their outward demeanors, Clay and Roque were big old softies. Well, Clay liked to think with his downstairs brain when there was a hot chick around, and Aisha was, like, the very definition of a hot chick, so he was probably in the minute he’d seen her. And Roque got weirdly attached to things really quickly sometimes. Jensen got that, he did it himself often enough, but there was never really any rhyme or reason behind Roque’s attachments. Jensen had mostly decided trying to figure that out was like wandering into ‘here be dragons’ territory, ha, and just opted not to do it. 

Pooch was just an awesome guy with a good sense for people. Jensen trusted his judgment over the other’s, point blank.)

Also, blaming the Losers for the human trafficking shit. The only more effective way of getting the Losers on one’s ass would have been to blow up a bunch of children in front of them. These assholes were in for a world of hurt. 

Just as soon as they tracked them down.

|-|

"It always is the quiet ones," Jensen said. It came out muffled - he had a pen in his mouth. He had no idea why, but it would probably come in handy when Roque inevitably decided to make some smartass comment - but that didn't stop Cougar from glancing up at him and smirking.

Jensen could feel Aisha rolling her eyes. It had to be for Cougar, not him, because it wasn't like Jensen was actually doing anything wrong. Or different from normal. It certainly made life easier that everyone thought he was a bit of a flake. Underestimation just made his life and work easier, most of the time. 

"I'm going to assume that I don't want to know anything about these 'contacts' of yours," Pooch sighed. He was obviously ignoring the byplay between the rest of them - there was a reason he was considered the 'sane' Loser. 

Aisha shrugged. "We have a day to be at the port, and then my contacts will load us up for shipping. Your government will have trouble tracking you once we're in international waters." 

Clay hummed briefly. "They'll probably expect us to head for Europe." 

"Or Mexico," Cougar adds. He looks over the cleaned pieces of rifle spread out in front of him for a long moment, then begins snapping the weapon back together, faster than Jensen would have thought. Certainly faster than Jensen, which was a little disconcerting and reassuring at the same time. Jensen had worked damned hard to be able to do that, but the extra evidence that they'd teamed up with capable people was a relief. The last thing they needed was extra weight to carry. Their own baggage was generally more than enough for twelve other people. 

"Your family would be of little help right now," Aisha said, a sharp edge to her voice that Jensen couldn’t place. 

Cougar shot her a look from under the brim of his cowboy hat. It was so wrong that Jensen found that 'no shit, Sherlock' look as hot as he did. Sarah had the same look, she and used it all the time on Jensen. 

"How bad are the politics of this situation going to be?" Pooch asked. Trust Pooch to go for the heart of the problem while keeping people from each other’s throats. Too bad his crisis negotiating skills didn't work on most of their missions. 

"Not as bad as they could be," Aisha hedged. "It will depend on what evidence we can acquire into the man, or men, that are behind all of this." 

Cougar snorted, and Jensen's heart sank a little at the sound. 

"I'm going to send out a warning to Jolene and Sarah," Jensen said, even as he was making the decision. "Is there anyone that you want me to contact, too?" 

Aisha shook her head, but Cougar looked thoughtful for a moment. "What kind of warning?"

"Keep their eyes open and heads down. Don't believe whatever they'll be fed. Head for dodge if things feel hinky. The normal," Jensen said. He could see Roque rolling his eyes, but Jensen had long learned to ignore that stuff. Roque just didn't understand the finer points of a broad vocabulary. "Anything you want me to add?" 

Cougar shrugged and kept his eyes on the rifle he was now breaking down so he could pack it up. "I will think about it."

"Sure thing, man. I can send a discrete and coded message to just about anyone, anywhere, as long as they're somewhere on the map," Jensen said. 

His computer beeped at him, three of his background programs throwing up alerts, so he went back to work. Clay and the others would make their plans; he didn't have to know about them until then.

|-|

It turned out that their plans weren't any different from the average spy thriller novel: get down, get out, get gone. Pooch and Roque had gone out an hour before they'd left the crash pad and discretely picked up a new vehicle, while the rest of them packed up everything that they'd brought. Jensen threw all of the sheets they'd used into the laundry, washing everything in straight bleach. It smelled rank, but it'd give them a little more time if anyone was serious about tracking them down.

They spent the night and most of the next day getting to the coast, Pooch taking the longest driving shifts. Aisha only took over for him once they'd made it to the port city - she refused to tell anyone how to get to her contacts. She'd even threatened to blindfold them all until Cougar rolled his eyes and drawled something in some Romance language. 

Jensen's ears latched onto the sound of Cougar's soft accent, rolling it over and over in his head until the words made no sense, but were still something that he wanted to record so that he could listen to it whenever he wanted. Like a favorite song. 

Aisha's contacts turned out to be the Captain and XO of a massive shipping freighter destined for the coast of Peru. They were quick to assure them all that they would be quite safe in their care - not that any of them actually were assured, but having two dragons on their side certainly made things easier in keeping the locals in line - but were unhappy to report that they wouldn't be able to board the ship in plain sight. 

No, they would have to be loaded into one of the last shipping containers to be placed on the ship, which would happen in a few hours. Once they were aboard the ship, they would have to remain in the container until the ship reached international waters. 

"Only for a day or two, friends," the captain said. He had a very oily smile, and Jensen was very much not assured. "Once we reach international waters, it will be very easy to claim you as crew. Our port destination in Peru will not look too closely at your paperwork." 

Jensen didn't refrain from snorting, though he was careful to make it look like it was due to something on his laptop - always a helpful prop, that. Of course no one would look twice at their paperwork. Jensen was going to be spending most of their trip making sure that even if someone did look twice at something, it wouldn't matter because their paperwork would basically be authentic. 

He was that damned good, and he had no problem admitting it. 

"Glad we understand each other," Clay said, meaning: _We all know that if you fuck us over, we will make your deaths long and painful, and, while we hardly need it, we have the dragon might to prove it, asshole._

|-|

The trip took a total of three weeks. Their particular port of landing was the third in a long series, and it would do no one any good if the Santa Anna suddenly veered off course. Not that the ship's thrifty bastard of a captain would have messed with his schedule.

Jensen spent most of their trip just going through all of the data they had collected. Between his work, and the work that Pooch and Cougar had done with the encrypted codes, there were very few commonalities, and one of those was a name: Wade. 

Both Aisha and Cougar had gotten good looks at Wade during their captivity, and from their descriptions, it turned out that the Losers knew him, too. He'd been Army Special Forces as well, and one of Pooch's teammates once upon a time. A cold, hard bastard that cared more for money and killing than anything else, it really wasn't surprising to find him dancing in a barrel filled with slavery and drug dealing. 

Once they had a name, Jensen and Aisha went after him in every way they could. Aisha's options were admittedly limited, considering they were stuck on a ship, but Jensen? Jensen could find a wifi signal in the middle of the artic, half-frozen, and utterly convinced he was going to die, finding one in the middle of the ocean? Child's play.

|-|

Jensen was holed up on the roof of the tiny room/building that the XO had kindly had lent to them once they'd left their homey little container. It only had one floor above deck, which had a small kitchenette and general living area, and three floors below, holding their head and bunks. It was a quaint little setup - certainly better than what Jensen had been expecting - and certainly added a little bit of something to the captain's favor.

It wasn't any type of a law that demanded that large shipping vehicles to have drake/dragon quarters aboard, but having one gave an air of credibility to the ship and crew. Especially considering that pissing off either species meant a long and painful death. 

But even as nice as the quarters were, there was only so much time that Jensen could stay inside with the rest of them bouncing around. Clay, Aisha, and Roque were always going over what they knew and what they could do, Pooch kept disappearing to the bridge or engine room to learn everything he could about the ship - like they would ever need him to drive a shipping freighter - and Cougar. 

Well, Cougar wouldn't stop watching Jensen. Normally, Jensen wouldn't be too worried about that - hot guy checking him out? Hell yeah, he'd be all over that in a minute - except Jensen couldn't get over that vague feeling of being prey. And something else that Jensen couldn't quite pinpoint. It was unsettling, but not bad, really. Just weird. 

Weird tended to make Jensen jumpy, and a jumpy Jensen usually meant Roque threatening to turn him into a human pin cushion, so when Roque and Aisha started cleaning their biggest and pointiest knives, Jensen figured that would be the best time to make himself scarce. And scarce meant the roof of their temporary quarters. 

"Good sun."

Jensen jumped, almost knocking his laptop off his lap and the roof. He hadn't even heard Cougar climbing up behind him. Dude was freaky silent. 

"Dude. You are freaky silent," Jensen said because, why not? Perk of always running his mouth: everyone expected him to have no filter. He glanced over at Cougar as he checked his laptop over. He didn't think there would be any damage, but better to be safe than sorry. 

Cougar just stretched himself out about two feet away from Jensen, leaning back on his elbows and tilting his head up so his face was in the sun. He'd apparently given up wearing a shirt for Lent - Jensen thought he saw a corner of it peeking out of Cougar's back pocket - and also shame. He looked really, really good. 

Jensen mentally shrugged, reaching up absently to wipe at his mouth, even as he turned most of his attention back to his work. He did catch Cougar smirking at him from the corner of his eye, which told him two things. 

One, he was still blindingly obvious about everything ever. How he'd made it this far in special forces was unbelievable. 

Two, Cougar was totally doing this on purpose. To what purpose, Jensen didn't know. And he wasn't totally sure that he wanted to, even if he knew he should probably ask. Not that he was going to. 

"Your offer," Cougar said a few minutes later. "Is it still available?"

Jensen blinked, but shrugged. "Uh, probably. Which one? 'Cause I'm told that I tend to make a lot of them. Subconsciously, anyway. Even as awesome as I admittedly am, social norms can still be a bit of a hang up. Mostly for everyone else."

To his credit, Cougar didn't look at him like he was the social weirdo he'd just explained that he was. In fact, Cougar didn't even look at him. He just reached up to take his hat off and resettle it on the ground next to him, his hand coming up a few inches before going back down to run over the top of the hat, then settling onto the flattest edge of the rim. 

Jensen wasn't sure where the thought came from but something inside of him saw the way Cougar was fidgeting - for him, anyway, typical fucking snipers, all economy of movement and shit - and went, _he's nervous_. And Jensen knew it was true, just as sure as he was that his name was Jacob Jensen, that Pooch spoke in the third person far too often to be fully healthy, or that Cougar was the single most sexy thing he'd ever seen, human, drake, or dragon. 

What Jensen wasn't sure of was why Cougar was nervous. The thought didn't compute, blue screen, reboot, start again.

"Your offer,” Cougar started. He paused for moment, lips pursing, before continuing. 

"You said you could contact anyone." 

"As long as they are somewhere on or remotely near the map, I can," Jensen agreed. Several dots connected themselves, leaving Jensen to wonder if he'd accidentally fried his brain sitting up here in the sun for so long. "I've already sent messages to my sister and Pooch's wife - dude, you will _love_ Jolene. She is the most awesome woman to ever awesome, and I'm including my sister in that. Emma will beat her out one day, I'm sure, but she's not going to actually be a woman for another fifty years, so Jolene still reigns - letting them know what's going on. All in code, because of course. Army and a geek, I'm genetically disposed. No one else knows, and no one will. Who did you have in mind?"

Cougar titled his head enough to look at Jensen, and Jensen made sure not to move or fidget or to hide what he was thinking, which he could totally admit was just _dude, you can trust me._ Whatever Cougar read into that made him smile, something between a smirk and a grin, something that Jensen couldn't help but return as easily as breathing. 

"Mi familia," Cougar finally said. He closed his eyes again, tilting his face back into the sun. His voice was quiet but firm, sort of like what Jensen imagined honey would sound like. It reminded him of those few moments in that safe house, waking up to Cougar watching him, watching over him - and man did Jensen really not want to think about that when Cougar was next to him. "They need to know Aisha and I are alive." 

"All right, I can do that," Jensen reassured him. He figured that was what Cougar wanted. "Easy enough. What do you want that message to say exactly?" Because Jensen knew that Cougar would have some sort of secret code with his family. He had no reason for the knowledge, it was just there. 

That knowledge sat tight and warm under his ribs, radiating contentment at the same frequency as the acknowledging hum Cougar sent his way. Jensen had no idea want to do with either of those things.

|-|

It turned out that Aisha's contacts not only got them to South America, they'd handled their way into Bolivia, which was possibly the last place on Earth that anyone would ever look for any of them. That was a good thing, considering the group of them would be a little conspicuous in every city in the world. Individually, they could all blend into the background, even in a country like Bolivia, but together? Yeah, sore thumbs all the way.

But because they were Losers, and because they really didn't have a choice, they managed to blend in all the same. A pair of Roque's contacts managed to land them an out of the way villa on the outskirts of a mostly minor city - Aisha wasn't the only one of them to know people everywhere, though Jensen didn't want to know a damned thing about why Roque had contacts in fucking _Bolivia_ \- and they made sure to only be seen in public in set groupings of two or three. 

It was usually some combination of Roque, Aisha, and Clay in one group and Pooch, Cougar, and Jensen in the other, because damn if two very white boys weren't inconspicuous.

They were there for a little over a month, just gathering intel and learning how to move around one another. Nothing earth shattering happened and, while it was physically painful to be separated from their families under these conditions, they'd played the long game enough that it didn't really affect anything. 

And then they had a pair of names: Wade and Max. Literally only the name in Max's case, which didn't surprise Jensen much - nothing was ever actually easy in his life, ever - but Wade came with that little bit of history. Jensen had been silently hoping that it was going to be a different Wade, someone who was just eerily similar, and he knew Pooch had been, too. 

"He almost killed Pooch," Jensen explained to Cougar as they made their way around the tiny little farmer's market. It was about a day after Cougar had translated the information his sister had sent back to the dummy email Jensen had set up. Pooch had gotten quietly and thoroughly drunk after they confirmed that Wade was involved, and Jensen planned on locating some high quality moonshine for him along with everything on Aisha’s and Roque’s grocery list. "He'd been the XO on Pooch's first recon team. Sold them out, killed everyone else, left Pooch to die in a house fire. Pooch's testimony got him 86'd, but Wade had had some kind of higher up protection that kept anything from sticking to him."

Cougar made a little growly sound that Jensen agreed with completely. It figured that Wade was involved - the world was just a little smaller every day, after all - and Jensen was looking forward to seeing Pooch get a little of his own back. Besides, black market dragon/human sales? Yeah, definitely something Wade would have his inky little hands all over. 

"We should have something solid on him in a day or two," Jensen continued as he watching Cougar pick through vegetables at one old woman's stall. "Give us all something to sink our teeth into." 

Jensen decided not identifying the feeling behind the little shiver Cougar's toothy little grin sent down his spin was the better part of valor. Just keeping his head in the game and all.

|-|

"Okay, look. I know that I've said that I'm the best of the best, and that's still totally true! But I am only human, and there is no way these encryptions were made using mortal mind power alone. And not even the best of the best can crank Goliath codes from the outside,” Jensen said. He swung his arms up in the air because maybe wild gestures would get through where words weren’t. Considering the virtual wall of disappointment and displeasure radiating from Clay, Roque, and Aisha, he didn’t think either were working.

“Jensen…” Clay started. 

“No, seriously, sir,” Jensen interrupted. He stopped waving his hands around and put the legs of his chair back on the floor with a loud thump. “I can’t do it. Not here, not with what I have, not now, not ever. Not happening. As much as it pains me to say it, I am not able to go up against a corporation that regularly uses the best minds in the world and, oh, not to mention, up to _six_ super computers whose sole purpose is to encrypt shit so that people like me can’t get into it! Glaring at me and commanding me to ‘just do it already’ isn’t going to help.” 

Clay frowned at him. Then he sighed. Jensen _hated_ that sigh. It was pointed and radiated disappointment. It _sucked_. Even just a hint of it made his shoulders hunch together. 

“Sighing at me isn’t going to help either,” Jensen snapped. He rolled his shoulders, even as he glared at Clay. Then he pointed at Cougar and Aisha. “Magic.” Then he pointed at himself. “Not magic.” 

“So you’re saying that you’d need magic to open that file?” Pooch piped up. He looked about one step away from popping a bag of popcorn. If Jensen wasn’t in the middle of being interrogated, he’d be happy about seeing a smile on Pooch’s face instead of the doom and gloom that’d settled when they’d learned about Wade’s involvement. 

“Last time I checked, magic and technology weren’t all that compatible,” Jensen said. He loved his teammates, he did, but they regularly gave him headaches, and he had a doosey of one building behind his temples now. 

“Urban legend,” Cougar said. He was perched on the window sill mostly just watching the discussion, but he had a bag of chips on his lap. He grinned at Jensen as he leaned over and offered the bag to Pooch. 

Jensen groaned. “Not the point!” He really didn’t see how it was fair that he was being ganged up on like this. Cougar and Pooch had done about as much of this footwork as Jensen, why did they get to sit back like this was the best fucking movie they’d ever seen? 

Oh, right. Everyone loved Pooch (and or was terrified of Jolene; six to one, half dozen to the other), and Cougar was a badass dragon warrior sniper hotass. Seriously, Jensen’s fucking ridiculous life.

“What is the point, Jensen?” Clay asked. 

“If magic isn’t what you need to open the file, what do you need?” Aisha asked. 

“Three weeks, uninterrupted, in Goliath’s main headquarters with full access to every inch of their mainframe,” Jensen said. He wasn’t even joking. Everything he needed to break that last stupid little encryption was lodged somewhere inside the most secure, off-the-map intranet in the world. He’d have a better chance going to a hedge witch and asking for a séance. 

“I’m guessing that’s not something we’d get if we asked nicely,” Roque said. Jensen hated it when Roque opted to start joking; he always ended up as the butt of the jokes. 

“Yeah, no,” Jensen agreed. “Though, the mental picture of Clay making that proposal will be making me smile for years, so thanks for that, bro.” 

Roque snorted. “Right. What do you need that is possible for us to acquire?”

“The key-code and data-lock,” Jensen said. “The key-code is probably in one of the mainframes – easy enough to download if not the easiest to get to. The data-lock is going to be on, or around, Wade’s person. Or whoever that Max guy is.” 

"And you know where each of these pieces are?" Clay asked. He shifted against the wall, a sign of annoyance, like he thought Jensen was holding out on him. Like Jensen ever would. Roque and Aisha mirrored Clay's movement, which, okay. Weird. Well, no, not really. Not in Roque's case; the two of them had been doing that shit for longer than Jensen had been a Loser. Aisha though. Jensen just didn't know what to do with that. 

Not that this was the time for Jensen to be contemplating what was or wasn't happening between his CO, XO, and the dragon warrior princess. Even if he did have next month in the betting pool for Clay and Roque getting their heads out of their asses. Would Aisha’s involvement negate the bet? Probably, which _sucked_. The pot was up to six grand. 

"Maybe," Jensen said. Because it wasn't like he'd been handed a little treasure map with a 'treasure here!' X marking the spot. Er, spots. Clay just raised an eyebrow at him and Jensen scowled back at him. "Look, it isn't like espionage and terrorism and all this shit that we're trying to muddle through is an exact science. There's a lot of guesswork involved, an epic amount of human error to account for, and it isn't like whomever _Wade_ is going to work for isn't going to be batshit insane. Brilliant and _insane_. I'm working with what I can here.

"Besides, to get either, we're going to need to go after them both at the same time. We try for either by itself- whether we get it or not - and the other is either destroyed or made obsolete before we can even think about going after it," Jensen said. And he was back to waving his hands around. That third energy drink had probably been a bad idea.

"We split into two teams - Clay, Roque, myself, and then you two with Cougar - and you give us the information we need to get what you need," Aisha said. Clay was already nodding like this was the best plan he'd ever heard and Roque was scowling in a particularly homicidal fashion. Jensen really, really didn't want to know. Unless he needed to run.

“Isn’t that what I just said?” Jensen asked. 

Roque smirked. “Like we could tell under all the babble.”

|-|

It took another two days, eight phones calls on Aisha’s end (that Jensen knew about), and about twenty hours worth (again, that Jensen knew about) of Cougar watching Jensen from, well, anywhere he decided to perch on, but they had two locations: Mexico City and Houston. Team Hotass Weirdos was heading to Houston to break in to Goliath’s main headquarters which, of course, was where the key-codes were kept.  


Granted, if anyone was going to successfully break into the headquarters of the largest, most secure technologies based security firm in the world, it was Clay, Aisha, and Roque.

Team Badass was heading for what would probably turn out to be an officially abandoned warehouse somewhere in the sprawling mass that was Mexico City. Mostly because Cougar had grown up in the area and a sniper’s skills were more useful in a raid scenario than an undercover one, but also because Jensen was the only one who would be able to locate the data-lock if it was disguised in some way. Jensen doubted it would be, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen weirder things. 

Aisha had made their travel plans again, and Pooch was currently dropping the other three off in the next closest city, which meant Jensen and Cougar were left behind to scrub away their very existence. Unfortunately, that was literal. They scrubbed every nick and cranny, and the sight of Cougar’s ass in the air as he went at the kitchen tiles was almost enough to make up for the disgusting everything that was the bathroom Roque and Clay had shared. Ugh. 

But the cleaning was finally done, and they had four hours before Pooch would be back. They were hanging out on the back deck, out of the view of their few neighbors, bags packed and waiting out of view. Cougar was sprawled out on one of the loungers reading a book that Jensen hadn’t caught the title of, and Jensen was crawling the internet for any reference to Wade, Max, their connection to Goliath, and or Domnar. 

He was mostly focusing on tracking down Domnar because if it wasn’t already clear that anything to do with the other three was tapped down tight, the fact that all of their information, aside from what came from their original set of files had come from someone’s contacts, whether Aisha’s, Roque’s, or Cougar’s. Domnar, however much of a sneak and a rat-fink bastard he was, was also a showoff. Jensen would find where he tripped up sooner than later, and Jensen wasn’t the only one looking forward to catching up with their ‘old friend’. 

Jensen cackled softly as he followed a thread that had Domnar all over it. If he was very lucky or very good. Okay, who was he kidding? Jensen was very, very good at his job, which often meant tracking down scumbags through any and all electronic means necessary, and luck had less to do with it than sheer, unabridged stubbornness. And lets face it, Jensen had stubbornness in spades. 

“Find something interesting?” Cougar asked. Jensen could hear his smirk, and sure enough, there’s Cougar smirking at him when he looked up. His hat was tilted back again, and he had his book set to the side. Was his glass of tea empty? Yep, sure was.

Jensen frowned at him. “Dude, were you staring at me again? Because, it’s starting to get a little creepy.” 

Cougar raised an eyebrow at him. When Jensen didn’t go on, he lazily shrugged a shoulder, like he didn’t get why Jensen would have a problem with him watching him. Like a creeper. 

It had to be a dragon thing. Which, okay, if he didn’t want to explain why he was always staring at Jensen, Jensen wasn’t going to push. Jensen had his own ideas, and he really didn’t think the truth was going to coincide just this once with his fantasies because he’d asked nice. Ugh, what was his life. 

“Right,” Jensen said instead. Cougar had asked a question, hadn’t he? “I haven’t found anything really interesting, but maybe something that will be sometime in the near future? I’m trying to track down Domnar, that rat-fink bastard, and I think I have a lead? Maybe? There’s this group tracking doomsday scenarios – they’re seriously nuts because as cool as Buffy was, everyone knows that shit isn’t actually real. Everyone in the world thinking that magic was fake? Please. – and one of the ones they’re paying a lot of attention to is something that Domnar had been talking about for, oh, _weeks_ before we found you guys. This would lead back to him sooner or later.” 

Cougar, thankfully, was super awesome and didn’t even blink at the rush of information. “And this Domnar, he was a comrade of yours?” 

“Sort of, not really,” Jensen said. He typed another string of words in his favorite search engine, ever – though he’d never admit to buying into the company – and sat back to let it run. “Wait, did we never tell you guys about him?” 

“We wouldn’t pry,” Cougar said. Too which Jensen was taking that he wouldn’t pry; Aisha had cornered Roque two weeks into their stay here and made him spill all of his favorite breakfast foods. Jensen doesn’t know why and he really doesn’t care, because that was hilarious. Cougar’s been pretty awesome about everything, especially boundaries. Jensen wonders if he’d had diplomatic training on top of all the warrior stuff, or if that was just who Cougar was. 

“Appreciated,” Jensen said. “Domnar was our, um, handler, for a lack of a better term. You know that most Special Forces teams don’t get official clearance, right? And it’s not really like a five star general is just going to walk up to a Colonel, even one as cool as Clay, and give him orders for covert missions. But the orders still have to come from somewhere, which is where the handlers come in. They’re basically go betweens. They give us our orders and all the information we need for our missions.” 

And Jensen didn’t want to think about how badly they could be fucked if it turned out that Domnar had been using them for longer than that last mission. A lot of their missions feel a little off, but that was just the nature of the beast, so that nagging worry that they’d been doing more harm than good, that they’d been helping the bigger bads take out the competition? Yeah, not really something that Jensen liked the thought of. 

“You’re worried Domnar was using your team to his advantage for longer than that mission,” Cougar said. Guy was crazy intuitive, or maybe just an awesome judge of character. “What will happen if that turns out to be true?”

Jensen sighed and ran a hand along the back of his neck. Wasn’t that just the question. He closed his laptop and moved it onto the table next to the chair he’d chosen. “Even if we get everything we need to prove that he fucked with us this time, and everything about what Max and Wade are neck deep into, which is probably a lot more than just the trafficking, because let’s face it. Trafficking? Isn’t small beans. That’s not something someone or a group of someones does without back up or a fail safe or a smoke screen. And this Max guy is wicked smart. He’s bound to have three of those for every operation, and three more for every one of those back ups. 

“But even if we do have all of that, and it can be held up?” Jensen shrugged. “If there is even a hint that Domnar tricked us into doing more? Our careers are over. Bringing down Max and Wade might be enough to get us honorables. Maybe. That’ll depend on how the wind’s blowing that day.” 

Cougar made a low sound, but he was just far enough away that Jensen couldn’t place it. But the scowl on his face told Jensen enough. He watched Jensen watching him for a little while, maybe five minutes, Jensen wasn’t sure (and when did Jensen stop feeling like prey when Cougar watched him like that? It wasn’t like Jensen had forgotten that Cougar was an impressive and powerful dragon or anything.) before he nodded. “Too much politics. You’ll all have places with my Clan, should it come to that. Or not.” 

Jensen blinked. That was…. That was really fucking huge. Jensen knew that Cougar couldn’t just offer up clanhood, even if he was the fifth son. Even if he was his grandmother’s favorite, which Jensen totally suspected, because she always left these little touching quotes for Cougar at the end of her encoded emails. But. Clanhood? Instant citizenship and status in some of the most insular cultures in the entire world? That could only come from the clan head, and as doting as she was on her favorite grandson, Jensen was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like Cougar just offering it up like that. 

And Cougar was just watching him, a little smirk on his face, like he knew what Jensen was thinking and he found it amusing. Like he didn’t care that he offered up was basically like the fucking lottery for a bunch of straight up humans, and that he wasn’t going to get his way on this with just a sharp look and a quirk of his lips. And Jensen knew, knew from spending basically two months in the guy’s pockets, watching him almost as much as Cougar had watched him, that for Cougar it was that easy, that simple. 

Cougar already considered all of them clan. And, out of all of the different types of Shifters in the world, dragons were second only to wolves when it came to loyalty. 

If Jensen hadn’t already been falling for the guy, just from watching how he interacted with Jensen’s team, how he had respected them and put up with their shit and navigated around what they didn’t want to, or couldn’t, deal with, or from how Cougar had kept watch over Jensen. Yes, like a creeper, most of the time, because that first time Jensen woke up with Cougar just sitting there, watching him sleep, yeah. That wasn’t the last. And it was totally creeper territory, except. Jensen knew it wasn’t just for the sake of watching Jensen sleep, or to unnerve him, but to _watch out_ for Jensen. Like they had been taking turns keeping a look out. 

And maybe that meant that Jensen’s type was turning out to be creepers with stalkerish tendencies, but whatever. Cougar was strong and protective and maybe a little bit nurturing, when Jensen stopped and thought about the way Cougar had sat for hours with Pooch as they went over the codes. Or how he’d stripped down his guns next to where Aisha and Roque were arguing, both playful and not. Or how he cooked breakfast while Clay rambled half-baked plans and schemes before coffee in the mornings. Jensen could deal with falling for a guy like that. 

Jensen just took a moment to look at Cougar, taking in the strong lines of his face and body, the easy grace with which he held himself. How the fading light played over his body, not fighting the shadows, but welcoming them, like the two sides of Cougar, the dragon and the human, danger and peace. Cougar let him look his fill, not saying anything, calm and accepting, like Jensen’s answer was already foretold. 

And Jensen could see where that was true. 

“Thank you,” Jensen said finally, when the light was mostly gone and they could hear the faint grumble of Pooch’s truck making its way back to them. He meant it for the offer, and for everything Cougar had already done and would do. Jensen was pretty sure that Cougar got that.

|-|

“Dude, you’re okay, right?” Pooch asked. They were two weeks out of Bolivia, and currently sitting in a really ugly van about a block away from the warehouse in Mexico City that Wade and his men had set up shop in. Just like Jensen figured they would have. Ugh, baddies need to stop being so transparent, for real.

“Um, other than being really sick of this van and whatever the hell that smell is, yeah,” Jensen replied absently. He was going through their checklists one more time, just to be safe. They had to hit the warehouse in about twenty, and they’d seen Wade leave with his entourage an hour before, and Jensen really, really didn’t want them to screw this up. They literally had one shot at this, because everyone thought they were running around the wilds of Eastern Europe or Western Asia – which ha! Yeah right, morons. – and that meant security was lax everywhere. Jensen was actually really insulted by all of that. Sure everyone thinking they were idiots made everything a little easier for them, but, really? How did they think they were that dumb? 

“Uh-huh,” Pooch said. Something about his tone made Jensen look up, and that’s when he noticed, hey! Pooch was scowling at him. 

“What?”

“You’ve been acting like flaky-Jensen since we left Bolivia,” Pooch said. Jensen had to suppress the urge to groan because of course Pooch would pick now to bring this up, when Jensen couldn’t flee or deflect because of the time crunch. Don’t let him fool you, folks, Pooch was a dirty, rotten bastard. “What’s going on?”

Jensen took a second to weigh his options, and then sighed. “Dude, now, really?”

“Yes, now, really,” Pooch said. He smirked at Jensen. “Ten to go.” 

“I hate you,” Jensen said, just to make sure Pooch knew how much he was making Jensen feel like a twelve year-old. Then he sighed again, because he was fucking Special Forces and covert ops and all of that shit. He could handle this conversation, even if Pooch was totally already laughing at him. “Cougar offered us clanhood once all of this shit settles.” 

Pooch tilted his head to the side. “Okay. Cool. So why does that have you acting all flaky-Jensen?”

Jensen blinked. “He offered us _clanhood_ , Pooch,” he finally repeated.

“Yeah, got that, Jensen,” Pooch returned easily. He was watching Jensen closely, and whatever he saw made him smirk and reach over to pat Jensen on the head. “Aw, did you finally figure out that you two have ridiculous crushes on each other? That’s sweet, man.” 

Jensen swatted his hand away and scowled. “I hate you, really and truly.”

“Liar, and I love you anyway,” Pooch laughed. He looked calmer than he had, which. Yeah, Jensen just didn’t understand his teammates sometimes. “The Pooch is happy for you both, but Cougar, man, seriously, you need to jump your boy already. His twitchiness is upsetting the Pooch’s calm.” 

Which is when Jensen remembered that their comms were already on, and that Cougar, up in his nest, wherever he’d finally decided to make it, had been listening to them the entire time. Jensen groaned and let his head fall against the dashboard, thumping in time to Cougar’s chuckles. 

“Do not injure yourself, amor, we have work tonight,” Cougar said. “It is tradition to wait for a celebration, Pooch.”

“Then I really hope your family’s cabin has thick walls, man,” Pooch said. He was laughing as pulling Jensen back upright, and ignoring Jensen’s glare, because, seriously. This was Jensen’s life. Ridiculous and absurd, and there was no way this mission was going to go off well now. Cougar had jinxed them with declarations of feelings and intent. 

“If the two of you have just jinxed this mission, I will seriously kick your asses,” Jensen grumbled. Both of them just laughed, but he could hear the pleased undertone in Cougar’s and the smile on Pooch’s face was just short of sappy. Sort of like the one he got when he was thinking about Jolene. 

“I’m happy for you, Jen, really,” Pooch said quietly. His hand squeezed Jensen’s shoulder where he hadn’t let go yet, and Jensen couldn’t help but smile back at him. Yep, his life was ridiculous, but at least the guy he was definitely falling for liked him, too, and they had approval from one of their teammates. 

“Two minutes,” he said instead of any of the soppy things that he wanted to. Because they had shit they needed to do. He slide his laptop under the seat of the van, already shut down, and patted his various pockets to make sure he had everything he needed, ignoring the knowing look that Pooch sent him. You forget your gun _once_. Seriously.

“The way is clear,” Cougar said. Jensen could hear his breathing settle into a steady pattern and knew, that even if it was just the three of them, he and Pooch didn’t have a thing to worry about. Cougar had their backs. “You’re set.” 

“Understood,” Jensen said. He put his hand on the door handle and grinned right back at Pooch. “Ready?”

Pooch laughed. “Mark.” 

These assholes had no idea what they were in for, Jensen thought cheerfully as he and Pooch jumped from the van. No clue whatsoever.

|-|

Surprisingly, and Jensen really meant that, like, a lot, but, surprisingly, the mission went off without a hitch. They got in, they got the data-lock, they got out, they didn’t have any injuries beyond a few cuts and scrapes. Okay, so there were a few tense moments when he and Pooch had gotten pinned down in Cougar’s one blind spot, too which Cougar’s answer was to open a can of dragon whoop-ass on the unfortunate fools, but other than that? Smooth as butter.

And if Jensen thought Cougar fighting in human form was both awesome and amazing? It had nothing on the way his dragon form moved. It was like watching liquid lightning grow a pair of wings and a few sets of claws and teeth. Cougar was gorgeous in human form, Jensen had noted that from the start, and had taken great pleasure in noticing it several times a day since, but he was downright beautiful as a dragon. He was dark blue, like the deepest dead of night Jensen had ever seen, but along his edges – where scales blended into claws, the ridges running the length of his back to and from his wings, his underbelly, his muzzle, and around his eyes – the colors ran from a blue so light it was almost white to a deep red. 

If Jensen had had any doubts that his type hadn’t included dragons, the way Pooch had to punch him to get his head back in the game, well. Jensen honestly hadn’t been that worried about it. Really.

So, yeah. The mission was a full-out success. He knew there was probably going to be some fallout from a dragon showing up and destroying most of a, supposedly, abandoned warehouse, but he didn’t really care. Cougar had been in touch with his family, and they’d been assured that the Clan had a few tricks up their sleeves just in case. Cougar’s grandmother had added a comment about knowing Cougar too well, which Jensen took to mean that Cougar ran on the same sort of bizarre luck the rest of the Losers did. 

“Aisha’s checked in. They have the key-code, along with a few other goodies,” Jensen reported from the back of the van. He had his back to one side with his feet braced against the other wall – thank goodness for long legs – so that Pooch’s driving didn’t send him rolling around. Pooch was probably the best driver Jensen had ever met, but even that didn’t mean much when the rest of the drivers on the road were like suicidal morons. Jensen took a moment to be thankful that they weren’t in any number of Asian cities where they had had far too many close calls. 

“What kind of goodies?” Pooch asked. He looked like he was out for a quiet Sunday drive, which hey! Exactly the type of nonchalance that wouldn’t get them pulled over as they tried to make their way out of the city, but still drove Jensen nuts. There were crazy drivers everywhere! The guy could look at least a little concerned. 

“No idea, and I don’t really care right now,” Jensen said. He finished typing out his reply, then shut down his laptop and stowed it away. “She also said that they have a little side trip that they have to make, so they’ll be meeting up with us later than planned.” He reached forward to poke Cougar in the side. 

Cougar opened one eye to peer at him. The rest of his expression, which had mostly been calm and content since they’d climbed back into the van, stayed the same. “Yes, amor?”

Jensen blinked, but he didn’t blush, no matter what Pooch’s snickers might have implied. “Do we have to worry about Clay and Roque? Aisha’s pretty fucking scary, man.”

Cougar’s grin turned to a smirk. “No. She will be able to handle them.” 

“Ha! About bloody time the two of them pulled their heads out of their asses,” Pooch said. He let out a laugh. “And don’t think this means you win the pool, Jensen. Third party involvement invalidates everything!” 

Jensen sighed. He’d figured as much, but that sucked. So close, yet no cigar, etc. etc. 

Cougar chuckled. “It is not like that, Pooch. Aisha has no wish to mate with either, merely to bond with Clay.” 

Jensen thought that through, trying not to actually picture Aisha, um, mating with anyone because she’d know and Jensen liked his balls firmly attached to his body, thank you. Then he threw his arms up in the air. “Yes! I’ll still win the pool. Pay up, Porteous!”

Pooch growled at him. “Not a chance, Jensen. Proof first.” 

Jensen just cackled because he knew Pooch would have to pay up in the end. If he was ignoring the tension between him and Cougar at the moment, well, he was just being a good friend. Pooch definitely didn’t need to see anything that was maybe (hopefully) going to happen. “Do you know what she’s planning? I’d like to have a little time to prepare a rescue, if it’s needed.” 

Cougar shook his head. “I know of no other plans.” 

“Huh,” Pooch said. He tapped out a slow rhythm on the steering wheel. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that. How long are they going to be?”

“Said about a week,” Jensen answered around a yawn. Ah, adrenaline crash, his old friend. 

“We’ll worry about it then,” Pooch decided. He glanced back in the rearview and smiled at seeing Jensen trying to stifle another yawn. “Get some sleep. We’re a few hours out still. Cougar will keep me company.” 

Jensen raised an eyebrow, but he knew that look. Pooch had it every time he decided to talk to one of Jensen’s boyfriends. Or Sarah’s. Or any of Jolene’s siblings. Pooch was going to be a great dad, seriously. Crazy protective, but great. 

“Don’t you dare scare this one off, Pooch,” Jensen said. He grabbed a blanket out of the pile of bags behind the passenger seat while he tried to figure out how he was going to be able to lie down comfortably. He could sleep standing up, but that didn’t mean he was going to be overly uncomfortable if he didn’t have to be. “Why do we have so much shit?” 

Cougar let out a small huff of sound that wasn’t quite a laugh but still caught Jensen’s attention. He gestured at his lap and only smirked a little at Jensen’s blush. Damn his fair skin. 

“You sure, man?” Jensen asked. He knew some people had personal space issues, and he tired to be respectful of that. Cougar just raised an eyebrow at him, and Jensen shrugged. What the hell. 

He shifted, trying not to throw his weight around too much, and laid down perpendicular to Cougar. Cougar’s thigh was firm beneath his head and he smelled of something warm and spicy. Jensen didn’t try to stay awake, knew that thinking about what he was doing was liable to send him into, well, not a panic attack, but something equally not conducive to sleeping, so he just closed his eyes and went to sleep. 

He thought he felt fingers running through his hair before he went under.

|-|

Dragons were highly territorial and the larger Clans, like the Alvarez Clan, had large areas of land hidden away from areas of dense human populations. The Alvarez Clan claimed land from as far north as mid-Texas and as far south as the Panama Canal. They weren't the largest Clan on the planet, and they didn't govern all the land that they claimed - they mostly stuck around their mid to northern borders - but they did a decent enough job keeping the peace.

Jensen often wondered just how bad things would be in Central America if there wasn't the looming threat of a Dragon Clan hovering over people's heads. Not that that really stopped anyone, but it definitely wasn't as bad as it could have been. 

The cabin they were using as a bolt hole was located deep in the mountains, about as far from and large city as a person in Central America could get. Jensen woke up as Pooch started their ascent, mostly because the roads went from halfway decent to knock your fillings out. 

Cougar's hand was still moving in Jensen's hair, and it only stilled for a moment when Jensen jerked awake. "We don't like visitors that can't fly." 

Jensen scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to push aside the grogginess of too little/too much sleep, and dropped his hand back onto Cougar's thigh when that didn't do any good. He very pointedly didn’t think about how his other arm had worked its way under Cougar’s thigh like he was a life-size teddy bear. "Isolationists, huh? Or do you prefer reclusive?" 

Cougar snorted, tugging on a strand of Jensen's hair. "Too much politics." 

"Reclusive it is," Jensen decided. It was still dark out, and Pooch was singing along with the radio, soft enough that Jensen didn't have to yell at him. Which was a positive, because Jensen didn't want to have to yell at him. Because that would take too much fucking energy. “Ugh.” 

Everything in the world felt like it would take too much energy right then. It may have been possible that Jensen had been extra flaky over the last couple of weeks, between most of his brain trying to work out what exactly they needed to do to get the data-lock and key-code, another portion worrying about Emma and Sarah and Jolene, and the rest in some sort of bizarre panic that whatever was going on with Cougar wasn’t anything like it seemed, that Jensen was just making a mountain out of a mole hill, and there it went again. 

Jensen groaned again, twisting around so he could try and smother himself with Cougar’s thigh, which… Wow, Jensen was really something special sometimes. 

“Relax, amor,” Cougar murmured. His fingers switched from just running through his hair (like Cougar was _petting_ him) to his nails dragging along his scalp, scratching lightly at the edge of hair at this neck then back up through the thickest portions. It was like Cougar had a direct link to exactly what would make Jensen go all boneless and lax against him. 

Jensen couldn’t bring himself to complain, it felt that good. If he’d been some sort of being other than a plain old vanilla human, he probably would have been purring. As it was, he could hear a faint rumble of satisfaction from Cougar, almost a hum, and, man, it had to suck to be Pooch right then. 

“Sorry, Pooch,” Jensen mumbled. At least he thought he did, his head was going all fuzzy, like he was seconds away from sleep again. Figured, too, that this was the closest Jensen had gotten to any kind of action in almost a year and he was falling asleep on the guy. 

“Go to sleep, Jensen,” Pooch said. He sounded amused. “We’ve got a bit yet.” 

Jensen barely heard him around the sound of Cougar’s humming contentment following him into his dreams.

|-|

Jensen was pretty sure that Pooch was considering killing him and dumping his body over a cliff somewhere. There were plenty around for him to choose, too. And it wasn’t Jensen’s fault that Pooch was being cranky. Cougar was being all Cougar-y, which meant stalking around Jensen and not really saying much of anything, which really wasn’t helping that whole Jensen-possibly-probably-falling-in-love-with-him-and-having-no-idea-what-to-do-about-it thing, and it wasn’t like Jensen actually had anything to do until the others came back from whatever side mission they’d decided to take.

No work meant Jensen was bored. Cougar being all Cougar-y meant that Jensen was twitchy. And a bored and twitchy Jensen meant Pooch was annoyed and wanting to kill Jensen. The only one who wasn’t going out of his mind after three days in the mansion built _into the side of a mountain_ was Cougar. Jensen figured that was because Cougar was basically home. Jensen would be pretty chill if he was home, too. 

“Jensen, stop twitching! Cougar, stop making him twitch!” Pooch finally shouted. They’d just finished eating dinner and apparently Pooch’s breaking point was Jensen knocking over the sugar bowl when Cougar smiled at him. “The Pooch cannot handle the two of you anymore. Figure your shit out or the Pooch will put you out of his misery.” 

With that he slammed to his feet and stomped out of the room. Jensen’s sure that if the room had had a door, he would have slammed that, too. Jensen blinked at Cougar, who was just sitting back in his chair, even if he was smirking again, and yep. There Pooch went, slamming the door to the room that he had claimed. 

“Right,” Jensen said after another minute. He tore his attention from Cougar, taking in the mess on the table. Even if there was only the three of them, Cougar had refused not to make a full meal ever night, so now the remnants of a three course meal were littered across a table that could have fit fifteen easy. Right. Time to clean up. “That happened. I’m going to get started on this.” 

Cougar didn’t say anything, just stood up and started clearing plates, piling them up next to the sink, where Jensen started running the water to wash them. They were quiet as they worked, moving around one another like they’d been doing this for years, and Jensen didn’t know when that had happened or what he was supposed to do about it. Or if he was supposed to do something. It wasn’t like he could just throw it out there and ask Cougar, and Cougar didn’t seem like he really wanted to talk about, well, anything. 

So it figured that Cougar would just start talking when Jensen was elbows deep in suds and couldn’t escape. (Jensen had been too well trained as a child.)

“Dragons of my Clan are known for their abilities to know,” Cougar said. He wasn’t looking at Jensen, just calmly taking rinsed dishes from the drainer to dry them, stacking them to the side before repeating the process. “Things about the past or the present or even the future. Things that they couldn’t have known, but know to be truth.”

“Like prescience?” Jensen asked. Considering how intertwined dragons were with magic, the idea that they could predict the future or see to the truth of something wasn’t all that farfetched. And it certainly would be a fitting ability for a clan of warriors. 

Cougar nodded. “Of a sort. It rarely has anything to do events or things outside of a personal nature. My great-grandmother used to tell my siblings and I how she’d known who our great-grandfather was years before he’d been born into the Clan. The same instinct lead her sister to her wife, and my brother and sister to their husbands.” 

Jensen blinked. “So its like a magical romance compass?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jensen wanted to slap himself. ‘Magical romance compass,’ Jacob? _Really_?

Cougar chuckled. “It is an instinct that ensures that we find our Mates, Jensen.” 

Jensen could hear the capital letters there, and it takes him a minute to remember that for dragons, mating was extremely rare. They were created with the intention that they would breed as fast as humans, and unlike drakes, not be tied down to a single, well, mate. For Cougar to have had four Mated pairings in his direct lineage, well, yeah. It was really fucking rare. 

“You know how rare that is,” Cougar continued. “More rare is that they were all Bond-Mates.” 

Jensen couldn’t help how he turned to look at Cougar because, holy shit. That meant there were a hell of a lot more humans in the Alvarez Clan than Jensen had known, more than even the larger, less insular Clans could boast. Which also explained why they were so fucking powerful. Jensen couldn’t even begin to understand why Cougar was explaining this to him, unless he expected Jensen to meet the family and didn’t want him geeking out on them in public. 

Which, okay, might actually be valid. Four sets of Bond-Mates. Holy shit. Bonding was rare in and of itself – maybe three percent of the dragon population in a particular generation would find a Bond-Partner – but Bond-Mates? Not to repeat himself, but. _Holy shit_. 

“That’s really awesome, dude,” Jensen said when it became clear Cougar wasn’t going to say anything else. Jensen had no idea what he was supposed to be saying here. “I’m really happy for them?” He tried. 

Cougar smiled at him, an indulgent smile that Jensen really didn’t know what to do with either. When Jensen waved a hand in his direction –he seriously didn’t know what Cougar wanted from him here, Jensen had never felt this far out of his depth – Cougar reached over to shut the water off and pulled at Jensen until they were facing each other. 

“Cougs, man, I…” 

“I knew the scent of my mate before I knew how to fly,” Cougar interrupted. He wasn’t watching Jensen’s expression now. Instead he took each of Jensen’s hands and dried them with the towel he’d been using on the dishes, which left them mostly still damp (that table wasn’t the only thing that would have been good for fifteen people), but not dripping. “I knew his face before I decided to follow the warriors path, knew the sound of his voice before I first heard Aisha’s, who my parents had betrothed me to before she’d taken her first steps because my father had seen the two of us standing together on the battlefield in his dreams. I’ve know for thirty years that I had a Bond Mate.”

Jensen swallowed thickly, not sure what to do with any of this. He really, really hoped this wasn’t Cougar’s way of trying to let him down gently. Because he’d been getting Jensen’s hopes up for weeks now, with the staring and the amors and the _everything_ , and Jensen didn’t know what he would do if all of that came crashing down around him. 

But Cougar was still smiling at him and holding onto his hips. And now he was pulling Jensen forward, until they were pressed together, taking one of Jensen’s hands into his own and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the palm before holding it to his cheek. And Jensen…

Jensen was just trying to keep breathing because no fucking way was this happening to him. He was just a kid from the poorer end of the scale, who’d had to work his way through his last two years of high school and a year of undergrad because his sister had needed the help and their parents had tossed them both out. The guy who’d joined the military when she’d gotten pregnant and neither she nor her fiancé could afford the medical insurance. The man who’d gotten his sister and niece listed as his dependents when Derek had been killed by a drunk driver on his way home from a graveyard shift at a factory two towns over. 

“I. Cougar?” Jensen asked. Because Cougar’s cheek was warm against his skin, and he could feel the stubble scratching him when Cougar smiled again. Because not even Jensen’s crazy genius mind could make the leap here. Fantasies were one thing, but Jensen was too much of a pragmatist for him to believe any of it would work in reality. Not for him. “Really?”

“Yes, amor,” Cougar said. He was making that rumbling sound again, deep in his chest, and Jensen could feel it echoing in his bones. “The dreams did you no justice. I knew you would be handsome, but nothing of your intelligence, your spark. You are beautiful.” 

Jensen really, really wanted to kiss him. So he did, nagging worries be damned. 

Everything rolled to a stop at the feel of Cougar against him, the taste of him - sweet and musky and just a little spicy - when Cougar's lips parted on a gasp. For a few, brief seconds there was only silence. Or not silence, but a calm contented hum; a 'yes, this is what I've been looking for' moment of utter clarity. 

When they finally pulled back – but not away. Jensen wouldn’t let him go if Domnar and Max and Wade came flying through the windows – Jensen could feel Cougar at the back of his mind. Not anything intrusive, just a calm, steady presence that Jensen knew was Cougar. Was his, his mate. 

Jensen grinned at Cougar, probably looking like he was a little crazy. Whatever. Apparently Cougar had known exactly what he was in for. “Okay. I can totally work with this.”

Cougar laughed, and Jensen could feel the echo in the back of his mind.

|-|

Jensen would like to say that they didn’t spend the rest of the week before the others showed up having lots and lots of sex, but he’d totally be lying. Also, he wouldn’t want to say that anyway. His mate was awesome and gorgeous and a badass warrior dragon, and Jensen would have no problem bragging about him to everyone everywhere.

To put it succinctly, Jensen had absolutely nothing to complain about. 

They actually hadn’t spent all of their time on sex. Cougar took one day to show Jensen the wonder that was flying, which Jensen had always loved, but was much, much cooler when planes weren’t involved. Jensen was already trying to think of ways to talk Cougar into taking Pooch up – because if anyone would get it outside of a bond, it was Pooch. Maybe for his birthday. Or Christmas. 

By the time Aisha flew Roque and Clay to the cabin – fucking mansion built into the mountain. No, Pooch, Jensen wasn’t getting over that any time soon – the Bond had settled. Jensen still jumped when Cougar snuck up on him, but he was getting better at expecting it. 

What Jensen hadn’t been expecting was the feeling of companionship when Clay stepped into the house. It was almost like on some sort of primal or base level that he recognized Clay like he hadn’t before. From the double take Clay did when he spotted Jensen, he was pretty sure that Clay felt the same connection. 

“Okay, wait,” Pooch sighed when Jensen pried the news out of Clay – mostly by laughing at him. “You’re Bonded to Aisha?”

Clay nodded. He was sitting at the bar connecting the kitchen to the informal living room, which was where they’d been hanging out when Jensen and Cougar weren’t busy having sex, and Aisha was perched on the counter a few feet away from him. Roque was leaning on the wall at the other end of the bar, scowling at nothing in particular. So, pretty much normal for him.

Pooch looked between the three of them, and then rubbed at his forehead. Jensen was just glad he was annoyed enough to be asking about what was going on, because Jensen wasn’t going near it, no matter how much money he had on the line. “I can’t believe I’m going to ask this, what the fuck. What about you and Roque, Clay? And don’t you fucking try to tell the Pooch that there’s nothing there because that’s bullshit. How could you, man? That’s fucking cold.” 

Both Clay and Roque scowled at Pooch. It was pretty intimidating, and Jensen was sure that Pooch was going to be in the shithouse for the next, oh, forever, but then Clay _blushed_. Jensen and Pooch stared at him in shock long enough for him to start talking. 

“I’m not sleeping with Aisha, Jesus fuck, Pooch. We’re just Bonded,” Clay said. Aisha growled a little – Jensen thought she sounded more amused than angry – and poked Clay in the side with her foot. Clay swatted at her foot as he scowled at her, before he turned to look at Roque, who was looking mostly amused now. “Fuck you, Roque.” 

“Not what you asked for last night, honey,” Roque said. Then he leered at Clay. And Clay actually blushed again. 

Jensen threw both of his arms up in the air. “Victory is mine! You wanted proof, Pooch? There you go, right out of the horse’s mouth. Pay up!” 

Pooch groaned. “Jolene is going to kill you two. She had next month in the pool.”

|-|

“If you find what you said you would on that,” Aisha said as she handed the key-code over to Jensen. “And with what we acquired in Los Angeles, we will have more than enough to take our claim of _satter_ to the Clans.”

Jensen blinked at her. Even with everything he knew about dragons, he didn’t really know what she meant. “Huh?”

She looked like she was refraining from rolling her eyes at him. She’d really loosened up since bonding to Clay. As far as he could figure it, because aside from Clay’s embarrassed confessions none of them had said a damned word about their arrangements, they were in a weird triangle relationship where Clay and Aisha were Bonded, Clay and Roque were dating, and Roque and Aisha had an agreement. Jensen honestly didn’t want to know, but they all seemed pretty happy with things, so he didn’t feel the need to stick his head in. 

“If we go to your government, Wade and Max will slip from our fingers. The Dragon Clans can take our _satter_ and the evidence to the World Council, and we’ll have the right to track them down and destroy them,” she explained. It was about as condescending as it sounded, but it didn’t actually feel like it was. Jensen didn’t really understand, but he figured that meant that she actually liked him. He could live with that. 

He could also live with not having to stay on the lam with Wade and Max out there free as birds. Because that’s what would happen if they took everything to the Army. Even with their evidence, the four of them were going to end up in jail, even if it was just until the charges of trafficking and treason were dealt with. With the World Council – what NATO wished it could have been – the Clans would be free to exact their justice. Within reason, of course. 

Jensen didn’t care what restrictions were placed on them by the Clans, Wade, Max, Domnar would be dead and their operations destroyed. That’s what Jensen cared about.

“Okay,” Jensen said. “Give me, Cougar, and Pooch a few days. Shouldn’t be too much trouble.” 

Aisha smiled at him, and Jensen could see why Cougar always felt so happy/amused/content/friendly when he thought about her. Awesome.

|-|

“Relax, amor,” Cougar said. He pulled Jensen’s hands away from where they tugging at his shirt. “They are going to love you.”

Jensen hated button downs. They were uncomfortable and he always looked like a tool in them. “Easy for you to say, Cougs. Everybody loves you.” 

And they did, not that Jensen could blame them. Sarah had, and she was the worst when it came to Jensen’s boyfriends. Even Steve, who could have been a poster boy for All-American Boy, she’d hated. Well, not hated. But she certainly never invited him into her kitchen and showed him how to make Great-Grandma Everson’s Secret Sugar Cookies like she had Cougar. 

And even if Sarah was a tough cookie to crack, she wasn’t an entire _Dragon Clan_. Jensen had survived college, the Army, Special Forces training, the Losers, and the World Council, but here, today, was when he was going to die. And Jensen was still too fucking pretty to die.

“They’re going to hate me.”

Cougar growled a little, using the hold he had on Jensen’s hands to pull them together. Jensen went easily, because he’d actually have to be dead before he stopped responding eagerly to everything Cougar did, and let Cougar kiss some of the tension from him. 

“They are going to love you, idiot,” Cougar said when they parted. He leaned his forehead against Jensen’s, smiling at him. “You are my Bond-Mate, and I love you. They will love you because I do.”

Jensen could feel how much Cougar loved him, from within him and all around him, and it was still just a little overwhelming in the best way possible. He couldn’t help smiling back at him. “Okay, yeah. You may have a point.” 

Cougar was laughing at him. Jensen didn’t really care. They had to survive dinner with Cougar’s Clan, like the most epically horrid meet-the-parents-dinner _ever_ , and they were leaving in a few days to start the final part of tracking Max and Wade down. Jolene was expecting, and Emma’s soccer team was heading to the state finals. 

Jensen had a fucking dragon in the back of his mind and filling his heart, and he’d gone from Army Special Forces to a Dragon Bond-Warrior of the Alvarez Clan – he still wasn’t sure if that was a career upgrade or not, despite the built in boyfriend – in the span of a few months. His life had never been this simply nor this insane. 

Jensen could live with that.

|-|

The End! 

|-|


End file.
